


How Did It Get So Late So Soon?

by Siancore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Sambucky Domesticity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:02:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25108183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siancore/pseuds/Siancore
Summary: Sam and Bucky have been married for years. Sam continues to age yet Bucky stays the same. He finds that forever’s too short when the person you love keeps getting older and you don’t.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67





	How Did It Get So Late So Soon?

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to be better at sharing one-shots I post on Tumblr here. Something I wrote when I was feeling under the weather. I hope you're all safe and well.

The soft patter of the raindrops fell soothingly to the moist earth as clouds shrouded the early morning sunlight. Sam felt the aching begin to pester at his knees. Happened with more frequency now that he was getting older. It happened a lot when the rain set in.

Sam’s eyes fluttered open after he reached for Bucky, only to find his side of the bed empty. The warmth from his body had dissipated swiftly and Sam could not tell how long he had been gone from their bed.

“Buck?” he called out, still entangled in the soft sheets with his arm slung over his eyes.

When no reply came, Sam let out a sigh and then proceeded to stretch out. His joints cracked and a groan escaped his lips. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and warmed his toes by sliding his feet into his slippers. He then wrapped himself in his robe that was draped across the nightstand; the same soft, comfortable, practical garment that Bucky had bought for Sam’s fiftieth birthday only a month ago.

Sam let out a yawn and then padded across the bedroom floor toward the en suite bathroom. The door was cracked open and it is where he found his husband leaning against the vanity, staring at himself in the mirror.

It had been a long while since Bucky had zoned out; years, to be precise. Sam took in his stance before asking about his wellbeing.

“Buck, you good?”

Bucky turned to glance at Sam, and said, “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m good.”

Sam nodded and then went to the toilet to relieve himself. He flushed and then walked toward Bucky who had returned to examining himself in the mirror. Sam washed and dried his hands, before pressing a kiss to the side of Bucky’s face. He then rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder and looked at both of their reflections. It had to be noted that while Sam looked great for his age, Bucky still looked like he was in his thirties, courtesy of the super soldier serum.

“It’s rainin’,” said Sam as he wrapped his arm around Bucky’s back and kissed his neck. “Come back to bed and keep me warm?”

A smile spread across Bucky’s face as he shifted so that he was standing behind his husband, with one hand on his hip and the other slipping inside of his robe. He pressed his lips to Sam’s nape and then whispered, “I’m gonna warm you up real good.”

…..

When Sam was younger, and their relationship was new, he and Bucky’s lovemaking was often passionate and fiery. Their desire for one another matched perfectly; they fit together perfectly. Coming together in a searing haze of lips and tongues and hands. Caressing; biting; kissing. Holding one another in place. Going deeper and harder; harder and faster. Fast, heavy breathing that felt hot against sweat-drenched skin.

These days, both were content to take it slow, even though Bucky’s libido was still that of a man in his late thirties. Still, he took care of his Sammy. Made love to him just how he liked it; fucked him when he needed it. He would never, ever tire of being with his husband; of desiring him. He was thankful that Sam loved him back; that Sam still wanted him in return.

He watched as Sam writhed underneath him. Spreadeagled and beautiful; moaning in that delicious way that caused Bucky to almost tip over the edge. But he would wait. He always did. He always made sure his beloved reached the apex of his pleasure first. When the steady ribbons of white shot from the tip of Sam’s crown and made patterns on his rich, dark skin, Bucky stopped holding back. He fell on top of his husband, kissed him messily, and filled him with his seed.

…..

Lying in the afterglow of their lovemaking was still one of Bucky’s favorite things to do. After he cleaned himself and his Sammy, Bucky would lie on his side and watch the other man. He loved the way Sam’s chest rose and fell as he breathed contentedly, albeit erratically, still needing to steady his breathing just so. How his lips were still swollen from their eager kisses; how his hooded eyes looked love drunk and sleepy. He loved how the light sheen of sweat caused Sam’s skin to glisten as if some divine being had trailed their fingers across Sam’s form; admiring and revering him as Bucky did.

Bucky would run his fingers over Sam’s body. Caressing his perfect face. Pressing his fingertips to Sam’s lips. Tracing a line down the bridge of his nose. Bringing his hand to rest over Sam’s heart. God, he loved his Sammy so much; he loved him so much that it hurt. It hurt deep down in his soul because with every day that passed, Sam got older, and Bucky stayed the same.

…..

The rainy mornings gave way to bright, airy afternoons as the seasons changed and time kept racing by. Streams of sunlight filled their home and added to the warmth therein. Bucky sat on the sofa with his feet on the coffee table and a small mirror in hand. He held it up and ran his fingers through his hair, tossing the tresses side to side, hoping to find some sign of aging; a grey hair or two. He sighed and then ran his hand over his growing beard before examining his eyes.

“You’re still a fine ass man,” said Sam, startling Bucky from his focused reverie.

He placed the mirror down, turned to look at Sam and said, “I ain’t got nothin’ on you.”

Sam laughed and ambled over to where his husband was sitting. He slipped down beside Bucky and brushed his lips quickly against the other man’s; it was too fleeting for Bucky, so he cupped Sam’s face and drew him in for a languid kiss.

When they broke apart, Sam’s eyes searched Bucky’s face. He ran his thumb over Bucky’s bottom lip and smiled at him.

“What?” asked Bucky, still mesmerized by the deep brown framed by pretty, long lashes.

“Nothin’, you just look more or less the same as you did when I first saw you,” Sam proffered as he ran the back of his hand over Bucky’s face.

Bucky closed his eyes and relished in the feeling of his husband’s touch. He opened his lids to see a contemplative Sam staring back at him.

“Would you still have asked me if you knew?”

“What?”

“To marry you,” said Sam as he averted his gaze and drew his hand back. “If you knew back then that I’d get old and you’d stay the same, would you _still_ have asked me?”

“I asked you ‘cause I loved you,” said Bucky as he slid his hand into Sam’s. “I _still_ love you. I’ll love you when we’re both old and grey.”

A small smile washed over Sam’s face as he gave Bucky’s hand a squeeze and said, “You mean when _I’m_ old and grey, Mr Super Soldier.”

He was teasing, but the words still sent a pang through Bucky’s chest. He would give anything to grow old with his Sammy; anything. To sit with him and complain about their aches and pains. To talk about the better times and the good ol’ days. To walk hand-in-hand through their front door, making sure the other man is steady on his feet without a cane to help. To hold on to the memories they have made; to gently remind one another when they forget. To have their love mature as they each mature, a testament to their commitment to one another. A shared epilogue when their story came to its end.

“Sammy?”

“Mmm?”

“Would you have said yes when I asked you, y’know, if you knew?”

“Course I would,” said Sam, his tone warm and true. “I loved you. I still love you. I’ll love you when my knees give out and I turn into a grumpy old shit, complaining about kids these days and how the weather makes my bones ache. Hell, I’ll still love when you threaten to murder someone for thinkin’ your fine ass is my nurse and not my husband. I will love you a hundred times more when you change my diaper.”

“You’re not funny, Wilson,” said Bucky as he nudged Sam with his shoulder.

“I kinda am, though?”

Bucky had to chuckle. No one in the world knew how to make him laugh and smile like Sam did. No one owned his heart like Sam did. He had never known a love more profound than that of his husband’s. He had never loved someone so completely as he loved Sam.

“Would you have said yes to goin’ out with me if you knew how sappy I was?” asked Bucky, as he rested his head on Sam’s shoulder.

“I knew you were a sap pretty quickly.”

“When?”

“By the second date.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. And I knew you were sprung by the fourth date.”

“You’re wrong,” said Bucky with a grin. “I was so gone for you on that first date.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. I was gone on the first date and knew I was gonna marry you by the fourth date.”

Sam let out a sweet little laugh that still made Bucky’s tummy flutter.

“How?”

“I dunno. I just felt like I could love you forever, y’know? I just knew we could do forever, together.”

Sam grew quiet a beat, before softly saying, “Forever’s a long time, Buck.”

Bucky lifted his head, turned toward Sam and stroked his face, before whispering, “Forever’s not long enough, baby. Not for me when it comes to you.”

Sam blinked away the tears and then leaned in to press a kiss to his husband’s lips. They stayed that way for a moment, gently pouring their love into each peck. When they broke their kisses to catch their breath, Sam searched Bucky’s face and ran his fingers through his tresses. Then, after a beat, Sam smiled widely at his beloved.

“What?” asked Bucky, still giddy from his husband’s bright beam and keen lips.

“Your hair,” said Sam, as he stroked it some more. “Here at the sides –”

“I know, it’s gettin’ too long again. But I don’t wanna go back to Terrence’s Barber Shop; he flirts with you too much and I don’t wanna have to threaten to sit him on his ass.”

Sam threw his head back and erupted into laughter; it was like music to Bucky’s ears even after all those years.

“No, baby, it’s not that,” said Sam while smoothing Bucky’s locks down. “Here at the sides, your hair’s turning grey.”

“What?”

“Look,” said Sam as he reached for the mirror and handed it over.

Bucky stared at himself and brushed his hair back and forth. He dropped the mirror to his lap, turned to Sam, and let the tears fill his eyes.

“Babe, it’s okay. It’s not the end of the world, just a little grey hair. You’re still fine as fuck.”

“No, Sammy. It’s not that. It’s – it’s amazing,” he stammered, as he offered a stunned smile for his husband. “You know what this means, right?”

Sam just shrugged, too taken with the swirling emotions that danced across his husband’s face.

“It’s means I’m not gonna stay stuck like this, baby,” said Bucky happily as he drew Sam into an embrace. “It means I get to grow old with you.”


End file.
